


Safe Harbor

by wildwordwomyn



Category: White Squall
Genre: Angst, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-21
Updated: 2010-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 22:51:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck keeps in touch with Frank after 25 years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe Harbor

**Author's Note:**

> #1: This fic is based off the movie, not the books. And even though the sinking of the Albatross, Gieg and Arizona State are real, everything else is fake. I also have no idea if Beaumont actually exists or if he was added for dramatic purposes so be warned.
> 
> #2: Future!fic told from Gieg's POV. Since there's very little research about how Gieg ended up in real life I'm pretty sure all this is made up. And I'm not too happy with how this came out but I thought I'd post it anyway.

The letter comes in the mail on a Tuesday. He's at work grading papers for his Intro To Writing class at Arizona State and one kid in particular has the makings of a great author. Except for the fact that he knows he's good so he only turns in mediocre work. He can get away with it because his father has donated enough money to the school to own a couple halls. He keeps trying to challenge him to no avail. As long as Daddy is a phone call and a checkbook away this is it. The kid reminds him of someone who used to be the same way. Rich. Spoiled. Arrogant. Empty. He smiles, thinking of his friend, and decides to leave the grading for another day.

 

 _My friend,_

 _Hope this letter finds you well. At home with the family and about to tear my hair out. The old man is still going strong at 70 and he still treats me like I'm a child instead of a grown man with a life of his own. I guess I can't really expect much else. I smile, say 'Yes, Father' and do what I want. Unless it's something I have to put my foot down for. Then I raise my voice even louder and remind him with a look that I know half a dozen ways to take him out with just a pinkie finger. Not that I would. But it helps that he recognizes I'm no longer afraid of him. (This is the part where you laugh and shake your head at my 'antics'.) Anyway, I was thinking it's been a while since I saw you so I was wondering if I could come for a visit. I have a speech to give at some country club in Phoenix on June 30th so I'll be in town that whole week. What do you say to having a roommate? Give me a call and let me know if this is good for you._

 

 _Looking forward to seeing you,_

 _Frank_

 

He gives Frank a call that night.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

When it happens Chuck, now known as Charles to all but Frank, doesn't know what to do. Frank tastes of beer and nachos and he's leaning heavily against him. He's pretty sure Frank isn't even aware of what he's doing right now, let alone who he's doing it to. Until Frank pulls back enough to whimper his name softly against his lips and dives back in for more, wrapping his long arms around his waist. This time Frank is gentler, kissing instead of mashing their teeth together. He's working his mouth open with a wet, hungry tongue, and Chuck has every intention of putting a stop to it. Only he doesn't. Ever since that day they lost the Albatross and the lives of too many people to the squall he hasn't dated much. He hasn't been with many women or let his emotions get too out of control. He's wanted to, but he still suffers occasionally from aftereffects, still gets vertigo and palpitations and not-quite drowns in his sleep. He can still hear Gil and Skipper and Dean screaming if he cocks his head a little to the left. And really, who can relate to that?

 

Frank pulls back again. This time with his eyes wide open, afraid. “I'm sorry. I...I don't know where that came from...Chuck, I.....” He quickly lets go of the smaller man.

 

“Hey, it's okay.” Frank shakes his head, his gaze glistening. “Frank, really. You've just had too much to drink. You'll forget all about this in the morning.”

 

He's right. Frank does forget about the kiss by the time he wakes up in the morning. Chuck, however, remembers everything.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“You think they felt a lot of pain?” Frank asks, staring down into his wine glass, lost.

 

“Come on, Frank...” Chuck warns.

 

“They did, didn't they?” He lifts the glass and swallows the last of his chardonnay. Chuck, unable to help himself, watches as the liquid works its way down his throat. When he's done he looks over at Chuck, who turns his head, blinking hard. “A therapist I went to once thought I had 'survivor's guilt'. But I wasn't even there. You were.”

 

“You could've been.” Chuck's voice is hoarse. From the wine or the proximity to Frank, he's not sure. Frank is so busy growing maudlin that he doesn't notice.

 

“I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't made it, Chuck.” He reaches over to take Frank's hand, not thinking twice about the gesture. He simply wants to offer his friend comfort in any way he can. “You're the only one who believed there was more to me than what I let show on that ship. If I'd lost you-.”

 

“I'm right here, Frank. Still hanging on.” He squeezes his hand, his face open and tender.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

They sit by the fire, listening to wood crackling as they warm themselves. Frank wears dark brown silk pajamas and a matching long robe. Chuck is in worn sweat pants and a tank top. It's obvious that they come from different worlds. And yet Chuck keeps stealing glimpses of his profile, of the way the firelight catches on his dark curly hair, making it sparkle. Of the gap at his clavicle and how the rich color brings out his tan in ways it shouldn't. Frank takes up the space in the chair unapologetically, letting himself sprawl with his legs stretched out. Chuck wonders what his body looks like now that he's a man. The last time he saw him with little clothes on was on the Albatross. Frank was just 17 then, still more of a boy.

 

“It's peaceful here,” Frank murmurs into the comfortable silence.

 

The grin is faint but satisfied. “Yeah.”

 

Frank looks over at him, his eyes glittering. He seems on the verge of speaking again when he suddenly freezes. Chuck licks his bottom lip nervously. Frank stares at the movement, mesmerized, his own lips parting. The smaller man feels his heart start to beat faster as he imagines kissing him. He's not supposed to want to. He knows that, knows no man should be making such a profound impression on him but Frank has always been different. Special. And there's a secret part of Chuck that harbors a desire to see him fall apart at the seams, to be the cause of such a reaction. He wants to make him lose control in a way that doesn't hurt either of them in the end...

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Frank lay in his bed, spread out, exposed and looking up into his eyes searchingly. Chuck caresses a cheek with the back of his hand. Once his hand smooths down his neck to run over the silk Frank's expression changes from afraid to desperate. Chuck gentles him with light pecks on his shaven chin, down to his clavicle. He licks there at the dip as delicately as possible then kisses the spot. He takes his time moving down Frank's body, kissing and licking each inch of skin as he wraps his fingers around his wrists and holds them up above his head. Frank closes his eyes as he sucks on his nipples and sighs. After Chuck has covered his whole body he slowly lays down on top of him, whispering into his ear. Frank nods quickly, grabbing the bed frame with white knuckles.

 

Chuck begins to move his hips in slow, small circles until he hears a gasp. Then the circles widen until he hears moaning. He quickens his pace when the moaning becomes constant. He slides his tongue into his mouth, rubbing it against Frank's tongue as he lets his thighs slip between the other man's. Frank gets so lost in a thick haze of lust that it takes him by complete surprise when Chuck's blunt middle finger enters him. His body bears down on the finger eagerly, riding it until he orgasms a minute later.

 

Chuck is grinning. He can't help it. He's still as far inside the other man as he can be, and Frank is hot and smooth and loose and hardening again already. His hips are swiveling slightly as he says Chuck's name. Chuck slides another finger into him, making him whimper as his eyelids pop open to watch Chuck's face. Frank says he can't, that he's not a young man anymore, but his hips never stop moving.

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

“We never would've met if it hadn't been for that damned boat,” Franks says one night in bed.

 

They're laying nude and sweaty from a recent, robust round of sex. Chuck has learned that, unlike what he's heard about men, Frank likes to talk afterward. He likes to lay in his arms with his head on Chuck's muscular chest, speaking of anything that floats into his head.

 

“Probably not,” Chuck agrees. His skin pebbles, pleasantly tickled from Frank's breath.

 

“And we definitely wouldn't have ended up here.” Frank chuckles lightly but the hand resting over Chuck's heart is heavy.

 

He doesn't have anything to say to that. Besides, he figures Frank isn't done saying whatever it is he needs to say. Instead he turns his head to plant a kiss on Frank's forehead.

 

“Thanks,” he finally tells him.

 

“For what?” Chuck asks.

 

He feels him smile. “...For making it. For still being my friend after 25 years...” He shifts to gaze into Chuck's eyes. “For this.” And kisses him hard enough to steal his breath.

 

Chuck can't get a word out. Not when his mouth is busy reacquainting itself with Frank's. There's nothing else to say anyway. 'I love you' is obvious by now.


End file.
